Chance Encounters
by bambers2
Summary: Not all encounters are left to chance. To keep a long standing promise, Rowan fends off an angry werewolf to gain the trust of the eldest Winchester. Oneshot for Angel and Demon series.


So, I have had this written for some time now to give a little more backstory on how exactly in my series Dean came to have his amulet. Of course since then they aired the eppy showing Sam giving it to Dean for Christmas, so I guess that makes this even more AU. For some reason I had never planned on posting this on fanfic, but I really kinda liked the story of John and Rowan meeting. Thanks for reading . . . and if you liked it even in the slightest I'd love to know what you thought. bambers;)

_Chance Encounters_

Rowan stared long and hard at the amulet he held in his hand as he shifted uncomfortably in the front seat of a dark blue sedan he had stolen. The original leather strap holding the charm had long since worn away and had been replaced numerous times, but the tarnished brass amulet still remained in fairly good condition considering its age.

_Upon the shield of David,_ _the seventy-two letter name for God_ _was inscribed. It protected him from his enemies as it shall now protect you as you wear the amulet. This is my promise to you._

The dark-haired vampire had never been certain if that had meant the twelve amulets had actually been made from the Shield of David, but even if they hadn't, he never once questioned the power that resided deep within the charm. He had worn the amulet around his neck for well over a thousand years, and had never once taken it off for any real length of time until he had met Michael Dean Winchester.

"_Damn it, Rowan, you know I can't take that from you. I already gave it back to you once,"_ _Michael Dean uttered as he pushed the amulet back through the bars of the prison cell he was being kept confined in. "I promise they're not gonna hang me or my brother. So stop worryin', we'll get out of this like we always do."_

"_Jus' keep it," Rowan urged as he stepped back far enough that Michael Dean couldn't reach him. "Cause I just don't think this time you'll be able to get out of the trouble you're in without some sort of help. An' truthfully, you're the best friend I've got, an' I want ya to have it."_

Rowan rubbed away the moisture that had gathered in the corners of his eyes as he recalled the last days of his only true friend's life. He had made Michael Dean a promiseright before the younger man had died, and had kept his word. He had raised his best friend's son and had kept him safe from all the evil in the world to the best of his ability.

Yet for all of Rowan's good intentions, somehow the Winchesters' always seemed to have an ill-fated lot of luck in life_. _Most had died while still young, and evil always seemed to follow in their ever it could be said that a family was perpetuallycursed it would be their family, and it appeared as if the current Winchesters were no different than their ancestors.

"_It's called a devil's trap, an' I need you to build it to these exact specifications, understand?" Rowan asked as he traced a star pattern on a map laying across the white and black marbled tabletop in Samuel Colt's home. _

"_An' that'll keep the demons from gettin' out?"_ _Samuel eyed the vampire with uncertainty._

"_Believe me, it will keep them from breaking out of Hell," he muttered as his hand slipped to touch the Colt that was holstered at his side. "An' I'll have the only key."_

For well over a hundred years, the devil's trap had held most of the demons at bay, only a few escaping from it, but luckily hunters had tracked most of them down before they could do too much damage. However, for as good as some of the hunters were, Azazel had still eluded them all. Now the demon had set his sights on those he called the chosen ones, those he had endowed with special gifts, and unfortunately that had included the youngest Winchester.

Rowan had never bothered to learn what the two youngest Winchesters' names wereas he figured that like all their ancestors, they wouldn't be around long enough for it to really matter. But John, the eldest Winchester and also the boys' father, Rowan knew of him. Although Rowan wouldn't really consider John old, he had somehow managed to live a lot longer than most of his predecessors. It was John, Rowan was following tonight.

"_You know what happened?" Rowan asked a bystander as he nudged his head toward the burning house and then glanced in John's direction. "Did everyone get out of there okay?"_

"_Guess it started on the second floor," an older woman dressed in a bathrobe with her graying hair set in rolling curlers uttered as she looked forlornly at the white two story home. "That's the family right there . . . their mother didn't make it out." Tears filled her eyes as she brought her hand up to cover her mouth. "How are those poor little boys gonna be okay without their mother?"_

"_I'm sure that there'll be people lookin' out for them."_

The vampire looked down at the leather strap wrapped around his hand as a wry smile twisted on his lips. Against all the odds, John had somehow managed to survive even as he hunted endlessly in the pursuit of Azazel, but Rowan knew it was only a matter of time before the eldest Winchester's luck ran cold.

Leaning forward in his seat, Rowan ducked his head and looked out at the full moon. The perfect night for a werewolf hunt. The perfect night to once again fulfill a promise made to a long ago friend.

Replacing the amulet around his neck, Rowan slipped out of his vehicle, and eased the door shut behind him. Although he really didn't need it, he yanked out the gun he had concealed in the waistband behind his back and then headed into the woods. It had been about ten minutes since he had seen John enter the overgrown wooded area, and knew he had to pick up his pace if he wanted to catch up with the hunter.

At a fork in themuddy trail he'd been following, Rowan paused. Raising his head, he sniffed the air, and caught the strong pungent scent of the werewolf. Tilting his head to the side, he listened carefully and beyond the low vicious growls of the werewolf, he heard two distinct heartbeats. The first was rapid and slightly offbeat, and that one he attributed to his prey. The second was steady and strong, it was the heart of a hunter. It was John's heart.

For a moment longer Rowan listened to determine the exact location of the werewolf, and sensing that John was in danger, he set off at a dead run. As he rounded a thick copse of trees, Rowan ran smack into the werewolf, and dropped his gun to grip a hold of the furry beast who had John on the ground and was about to claw him apart.

The werewolf rounded on Rowan, and with sharpened nails it tore through the vampire's flannel shirt and ripped through his flesh. John scrambled back to his feet, and tried to pull the beast off of Rowan, but the male werewolf was too powerful for him. A low guttural cry ripped from Rowan's lips as the creature slashed its claws across his cheek, blood spilling from the jagged trailing wounds.

Rowan staggered backward into a tree trunk, his hands still gripped firmly around the creature's arms. Hastily shifting his hands up to the werewolf's broad shoulders, Rowan pushed down hard as he brought up his knee to smash it into the creature's gut, then pushed him away from him. The werewolf stumbled backward, and Rowan lunged at him, knocking both himself and the creature to the ground.

Although the vampire knew the creature was no match for his strength_, _he once again allowed himself to be brutally clawed at by the vicious, snarling beastas he waited for John to retrieve his off the top of the creature, Rowan shouted, "Damn it, shoot the sonuvabitch."

A gunshot echoed through the night, followed quickly by several more before a deep guttural cry ripped from the dying werewolf. The beast's cries swiftly turned to soft moans and then faded away to dead silence.

"Th-thanks," Rowan huffed, his breath coming in short panted gasps as he slowly made his way to his feet. "Been huntin' that b-bastard for months now, an' would've been pissed as all hell if I had to wait for the next lunar cycle to kill him."

"You alright?" John nudged his head toward the bloodied wounds littered across Rowan's chest and face.

"Y-yeah, I've been in worse shape before," Rowan let out a low weak chuckle as he clutched at his chest, "although at the moment, I really can't remember when."

"My name's John," the hunter extended his hand, and Rowan took hold of it in a weak grasp, consciously making an effort to tremble slightly as if he were worn from exertion.

"Rowan . . . Rowan Shade."

"Probably should get you to a hospital," John said rather hesitantly, and Rowan understood that the hunter was sizing him up and trying to decide if he could trust him.

"Naww . . . I'm good. Don't really care much for hospitals." Rowan smiled and then feigned a low moan of pain. "Too many questions, an' there's only so many times a man can actually survive a bear attack without more awkward questions being raised."

"I hear ya on that one." John chuckled as he holstered his weapon. "So you're a hunter?"

"I like to think of myself as a mercenary of evil." Rowan cast a cocksure grin in John's direction, and let out a short barking laugh when the hunter rolled his eyes. "It sounds way cooler than just callin' myself a hunter."

"You always hunt alone?" John asked as he glanced around the darkened forest in search of other hunters.

"Yeah, been huntin' alone since some evil sonuvabitch demon killed my wife an' b-baby boy," Rowan's voice hitched in his throat at just the right moment, and through feigned tears, he noticed John relax slightly in his stance. "So I've vowed to kill as many as I can before one of the bastards take me out, but I fully intend to go down takin' several of them along with me . . . So, how about you?"

"Been huntin' since my wife died," John admitted as the smile slipped from his features.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Rowan sincerely replied, tears brimming in his deep green eyes. "Although it was probably a good thing you didn't have any kids. Cause I gotta tell ya, nothing rips a hole through your heart an' soul like watchin' helplessly as your little baby boy burns to death."

"I have two boys, one's six an' the other's ten."

"Then what the hell are you doin' out here hunting?" Rowan asked, trying his damnedest to sound incredulous, and also at the same time pretend as if this was the first time he had learned of John's two sons.

"Cause if I'm not out here protectin' my boys, who will be?"

"Other hunters . . . those who don't have kids at home who need them."

"Yeah, but those hunters don't have an invested interest in my sons. An' I'm not about to risk my boys' lives on someone who in two weeks time won't care if they had lived or died."

"But what if you die out here?" Rowan asked as he turned on his heel to head back toward his car, and John followed. "Who's gonna take care of them then?"

John paused in his steps, and Rowan could tell the younger man was giving his question serious consideration. "I'm teachin' my boys to take care of themselves."

"Seriously?" Rowan smirked, and as he cast a glance in John's direction, he couldn't help but shake his head in disbelief. "They're ten an' six . . . an' I don't give a rat's ass if you're the best damn hunter ever, you can't possibly train two little kids to be able to defend themselves against a demon at their ages."

"You don't know my son, Dean," John muttered and Rowan could see the clear look of sheer pride exuding from the hunter. "He's gonna be a damn good hunter when he grows up. Already, he never misses a target. An' he protects his little brother like nothin' I've ever seen before."

Rowan inwardly cringed when he heard Dean's name. Rather reluctantly, he thought back to his best friend Michael Dean, and briefly wondered if his best friend's relative many times removed would suffer a similar fate. "But he's only ten, he shouldn't have to," Rowan argued, fearing that like most of the boy's ancestors, Dean wouldn't make it to see his twenty-fifth year.

"Well, he shouldn't be growing up without a mother either," John countered as he pushed aside a tree branch and move past it. "I just want them to be able to protect themselves."

"Yeah, I can definitely understand that." As they approached Rowan's vehicle, the vampire grasped hold of the amulet around his neck as he once again thought of John's eldest son. "That's my car." Rowan said as he hitched a thumb over his shoulder toward the dark blue vehicle. "Listen, you take care of yourself an' your boys," he said with a waning smile.

"You too," John uttered as he turned to head toward where his car was parked.

"Wait," Rowan called out as the younger man strode further away from him. John immediately halted in his steps, and swung to look at Rowan. The vampire quickly closed the distance between them and yanked off the amulet from around his neck. "Give this to your son Dean. It'll protect him from pretty much anything out there." Rowan hesitated for a moment as he brushed his fingers across his eyes. "I would have given it to my baby boy if he were still alive, but since I can't do that, I'd really like to think that I helped to save another little boy's life with it."

John eyed the amulet for a moment, and Rowan could tell the hunter was trying to determine if it was some sort of trick. But then a glimmer of light and hope filled John's eyes. Rowan understood that John knew exactly what the amulet was and how well it could protect his eldest son, and he gladly accepted it with a smile.

"Are you sure?" John asked even as he pocketed the amulet. "I mean as far as protection goes, there's nothing more powerful than this."

"Yeah, I know it's pretty much the Holy Grail of protection against evil." Rowan gave him a quick reassuring nod. "An' yeah, I'm sure. You probably saved my life tonight, an' I really want you to have it. Give it to Dean cause I'd really love to hear someday that he grew up to be the best damn hunter ever."

"I will," John solemnly vowed. "Thanks."

"Not a problem." Without another word, Rowan turned and headed back to his car. Once inside his vehicle, the vampire adjusted the rearview mirror to look at his reflection, and lightly trailed his hand down the jagged gashes on his cheek that were already beginning to fade away to nothingness. "God, I love being a vampire, cause I really would've been pissed as all hell if that werewolf messed up my face."

When Rowan was finished examining all his healing wounds, he reached across the seat and grabbed for an old, yellowed piece of paper and unrolled it. As he stared long and hard at the pictures of the two men on the poster and read the caption, Shotgun Sinners, Wanted Dead or Alive, a slow smile crept onto his face.

"There Michael Dean, once again I've kept my word." Casually tossing aside the old wanted poster, he turned the key and started the engine of his car. "But I swear to God, if another one of your family members gambles away that damn amulet, I'm so not hunting it down again."


End file.
